


Care for Myself the Way I Used to Care About You

by OctopusQueen



Series: But We’re the Greatest, They’ll Hang Us in the Louvre [5]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Abusive Sonia Kaspbrak, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort/Angst, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Fluff and Angst, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Married Couple, Married Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Mentioned Sonia Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Sonia Kaspbrak Being Terrible, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:28:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24695293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OctopusQueen/pseuds/OctopusQueen
Summary: After Eddie's mom died, he thought the nightmares would stop. But he realizes he needs to find a way to get closure, and Richie is going to help him every step of the way.Takes place in the universe of But We're the Greatest, They'll Hang us in the Louvre. Technically is supposed to be just after they got married, but you don't need to have read any of the other parts (or have read them in order). It can stand alone.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: But We’re the Greatest, They’ll Hang Us in the Louvre [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1654378
Comments: 4
Kudos: 68





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again for being patient with me right now, everyone! I'm finally starting to get back into the swing of things and I'm really excited about some of the things I'm working on rn, so I hope people still enjoy reading them.

“Eddie! Eddie bear!”

Eddie cowered in his bed as his mother’s voice echoed through the hallway outside his room, gradually getting louder as she approached his door. He pulled the covers up over his head in a pitiful effort to block out the noises and protect himself, but he could hear the footsteps approaching until they came to a stop in front of his room.

The door creaked open slowly, flooding his bedroom with light from the hallway that he could see through a crack in the blanket. Eddie held his breath, his entire body trembling with pure fear.

“Eddie bear, you need to take your medicine.”

“No, Mommy,” Eddie protested halfheartedly, hating how small and weak his voice sounded. “I don’t want to. I don’t want to take any more. Please.”

He remembered the pills his mother had had him take before dinner and after dinner and before bed, and the way his stomach hurt after taking them all. He felt nauseous just thinking about having to take more. Why couldn’t she just leave him alone?

Eddie could hear the floorboards creak as his mother approached the bed.

“You have to, Eddie. Remember your sickness. You have to take them, you don’t want to go to the hospital again, do you?”

Through the thin blanket, Eddie could see her shadow looming over him, and suddenly his fight-or-flight instinct kicked in. He threw back the blanket and tried to jump out of bed, hoping he could dart past her and run away, but he found himself unable to move.

He looked down, and to his horror he found that he was strapped down by restraints tightly wrapped around his arms and legs, holding him tightly to the bed. He struggled against them pitifully, but they only became tighter, squeezing him so much that he almost couldn’t feel his limbs.

Eddie looked up in panic and felt all the breath instantly leave his body when he saw that he was no longer in his bedroom; he was now in some sort of dark, damp basement that was lined with shelves containing yellowed jars filled with formaldehyde-soaked specimens, some looking like human body parts, some looking downright monstrous. Next to him was a table littered with rusty, torturous looking medical equipment, and Eddie’s chest heaved when he scanned over the assortment of blades and drills.

A bright light suddenly came on above his head, shining directly down into his face, and he had only just squeezed his eyes shut when he felt a sharp pain in his arm.

Eddie gasped and looked down to see an enormous needle piercing his skin, a needle attached to an IV bag filled with a jet-black, sludge-like substance that began to slowly ooze out of the bag and through the clear plastic tube, making its way treacherously towards his arm.

“No,” Eddie tried to struggle away, but the restraints kept him in place. “No, please…”

“You need to take your medicine, Eddie,” his mother’s voice seemed to be coming from all around him, echoing throughout the room, almost like it was being broadcasted through a dozen speakers at once.

“No!” Eddie cried, bulging eyes watching the liquid creep into the needle that was piercing his skin. “Please, Mommy, no!”

Eddie continued to struggle fruitlessly as the black sludge was pumped into his body. He looked around desperately, hoping to find something, anything, that could help him free himself.

His heart seemed to stop when he looked down his body and saw that his toes were starting to turn black and wilt like flowers. He tried in vain to move them, but he couldn’t even feel them. The blackness was starting to creep its way up, infecting the skin on his ankles and lower legs.

Eddie opened his mouth to scream, but he was muffled when a hollow tube was shoved down his throat, gagging him. He tried to scream around it as he looked up to see his mother looming over him, blocking out the light of the lamp like an eclipse, and holding another bag of the black sludge that she was attaching to the tube in his throat.

“Why did you make me do this, Eddie bear?” her voice almost felt like it was coming from inside his head. “Why couldn’t you just take your medicine?”

“NO!!!” he was finally able to cry out, shooting straight up in bed, hot tears streaming down his cheeks. “NO! NO! NO!”

A light came on somewhere to his left, illuminating the room, and he quickly realized he was no longer in the dark, damp basement; he was in a room that was familiar, but that he couldn’t quite place. He struggled slightly, noticing that the restraints were gone, and he was now wrapped tightly in sheets that were soaked with sweat.

He flinched when he felt a pair of big arms wrap around his shaking body, immediately starting to build back into a panic, until he heard a voice that was instantly comforting.

“Hey, Eddie,” Richie murmured soothingly. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe, baby. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

Eddie turned and dove into Richie’s arms, burying his face in his husband’s chest as a violent wave of sobs wracked his body. He tried to ground himself with the feeling of Richie’s strong arms around him and the solidness of his chest, telling himself over and over, ‘it was just a dream, this is real’, but every time he closed his eyes he was instantly back in that dark room, strapped to that bed and being stabbed with needles, his mother’s demonic figure looming over him.

He continued to sob and wail into Richie’s chest without inhibition, while Richie continued to hold him close. He stroked a hand slowly up and down Eddie’s back soothingly, his other hand combing softly through Eddie’s hair, pressing occasional kisses to the top of his head and shushing him, but Eddie only cried more, dampening Richie’s chest with tears.

This was the fifth night this week that he’d woken up in the middle of the night screaming and needed Richie to rock him back to sleep. He couldn’t imagine the strain this must be placing on his husband, always needing Richie to take care of him like this. An overwhelming sense of shame and guilt started to mix in with his leftover terror.

“I’m sorry I keep waking you up,” Eddie finally choked out through his tears. I’m sorry… I’m sorry I’m so fucking weak.”

“Eddie,” Richie responded gently. “Baby, you are not weak.”

“No,” he wailed into Richie’s chest. “No, I am. I’m fucking pathetic.”

“Eddie, look at me,” Richie’s fingers curled under his chin, tilting his head up so he was making eye contact with Richie. “Baby, you are so strong, and so brave. Don’t you ever, ever, say that you’re weak.”

Richie wrapped his arms back around Eddie’s trembling body, squeezing him tightly to his chest. Eddie tried to focus on the feeling; the strength of Richie’s arms around him, the firmness of his chest, the overall comfort and security that his husband provided to him, but he was already so far gone. He still couldn’t close his eyes without seeing horrific images dancing in front of him, he could feel his body shaking uncontrollably and his breathing just continued to speed up. He tried to pull himself out of it, but he just couldn’t, and Richie could tell he was spiraling.

Richie pulled away from Eddie and reached over his body to the nightstand on Eddie’s side of the bed, opening the drawer and pulling out the orange prescription bottle inside.

Eddie sat up, already shaking his head as Richie opened the bottle and shook one of the small, white tablets into his hand. 

“Richie, no…” Eddie protested half heartedly.

It wasn’t even about having to take the pill; Eddie had come far enough in his recovery to be okay with taking medication when he needed to. Now that he had his own agency and wasn’t being forced, he no longer found medication or doctors triggering like he had as a child.

He’d been prescribed a mild sedative after a recent panic attack had landed him in the hospital, but he didn’t like taking it. It made him groggy and lethargic, and the last time he’d taken it for his nightmares, he’d been so out of it at work the next day that he’d had to go home early.

“Richie,” Eddie protested once again, looking at the tiny pill Richie was holding in his hand. “I have to work tomorrow.”

“Baby, you’re having a panic attack,” Richie responded calmly, voice low and even. “You can call out of work tomorrow, you said you’re ahead on all your clients anyway. We can figure everything out in the morning. Right now, you need to sleep.”

He continued holding the pill out, rubbing Eddie’s back comfortingly with the other hand. Eddie knew that ultimately it was his decision, that Richie would never push or force him, but Eddie also knew Richie was right. He needed to sleep, he couldn’t just spend all night working himself up into a fit. That would not be healthy for either one of them.

He took the pill from Richie’s hand and placed it in his mouth, accepting the glass of water Richie offered him and swallowing the pill.

After placing the glass back on the nightstand, Richie quickly wrapped both arms back around Eddie’s still trembling body, pulling him in close. Eddie nuzzled his face down into Richie’s chest, tucking his head under his chin as he sniffled and tried to even out his breathing.

“Do you want me to read to you?”

Eddie nodded immediately, and Richie grabbed the book off his nightstand, opening it up to his place and beginning to read out loud, voice low and soothing. Eddie curled up on his chest and tried to focus on the sound of his husband’s voice until eventually the medicine took over and he was able to fall back asleep.

Once Eddie’s sniffles and little gasps subsided and the rise and fall of his chest slowed. Richie set the book back down on the nightstand and shut off the light, continuing to stroke up and down Eddie’s back as the tears dried on Richie’s chest.

Richie couldn’t sleep after that; not after seeing Eddie in so much pain and suffering, and especially after seeing the way he was blaming himself. He couldn’t even imagine what Eddie’s nightmare must have been like, the way he was screaming when he woke up…

He spent the rest of the night holding Eddie protectively in his arms, until eventually the sun came up and he could hear birds start to chirp outside their bedroom window. Richie carefully disentangled himself from Eddie, although the sedative he’d taken seemed to have effectively knocked him out to the point that he didn’t even stir.

He shut off Eddie’s alarm, then called his company to inform them that Eddie was unwell and would not be coming into the office that day. He then went down to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee, rubbing his eyes groggily.

Once he had a mug of hot coffee in his hand, he made his way back up to their home office and started working through some emails, moving at a slow but steady pace in his exhausted state. 

He was staring hazily at the glowing screen of his laptop, looking at the words in his email but not quite reading them, when Eddie appeared in the doorway, looking as exhausted as Richie felt.

“Hey baby,” Richie smiled at him and closed the laptop, shifting his full attention to his husband. “How are you feeling?”

“Shitty,” Eddie answered flatly, and Richie nodded understandingly. Eddie looked tired in more ways than one; there were dark circles under his eyes and he was shifting uneasily from one foot to the other as he lingered in the doorway.

“Do you want coffee? There’s a fresh pot downstairs.”

“No…”

Eddie sighed heavily and tugged on the cuff of the shirt he’d been sleeping in, an old long-sleeved shirt of Richie’s. It was big on him and exposed his collarbone when he pulled on the sleeve like that. The sweatpants he was wearing were also Richie’s and pooled around his feet. He often liked to sleep in Richie’s clothes, claiming they were more comfortable, and something about seeing Eddie standing there in the doorway, looking so small in Richie’s clothes, just absolutely yanked at Richie’s heart strings and almost made him want to cry.

Richie pushed his chair away from the desk and opened up his arms, and Eddie eagerly walked to him and climbed onto his lap. Eddie instinctively curled into his chest, and Richie held him close, looking down at Eddie’s beautiful eyes. Despite having eventually gotten back to sleep the night before, he looked so fucking tired, and Richie knew that his exhaustion went far beyond just a lack of sleep.

For a moment they just sat there, wrapped up with each other, feeling less panicked, but more solemn, now that they were in the daylight.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie finally whispered, almost too quietly for Richie to hear.

Richie immediately pulled away.

“Hey,” he grabbed Eddie’s chin gently, yet firmly, and tilted his head up to make eye contact. Eddie’s beautiful brown eyes were already shimmering with the beginnings of tears. “Stop apologizing. I mean it.”

Eddie shook his head, sniffing to stop the tears from starting again.

“No,” he choked out weakly. “Richie, you didn’t sign up for this.”

“Yes I did,” Richie insisted. “Eddie, when I married you, I signed up for all of it, for all of you, the good and the bad.”

He took both of Eddie’s hands, cradling them gently and stroking over the silver wedding ring on Eddie’s left hand, the symbol of the promise they’d made to each other.

Eddie tucked his head under Richie’s chin, allowing Richie to press kisses to the top of his head and continue holding his hands. He tried to focus on the comfort Richie was providing him, willing himself not to spiral again.

“I called Dr. Kirsch,” Eddie mumbled into Richie’s chest. “She said she can fit me in this afternoon.”

“That’s good,” Richie squeezed his hands. “I’m proud of you, baby.”

“Will… will you go with me?” Eddie tilted his head up to look at Richie again. “I know you said you wanted to get some writing done today…”

Richie raised his eyebrows slightly in surprise at the question, but he quickly shook his head.

“No, I’ll get it done later. Of course I’ll go with you.”

-

The remainder of the morning and early afternoon passed quickly. Richie had cooked them a simple lunch while Eddie was in the shower, but Eddie had only picked at it halfheartedly, and then they’d both just kind of puttered around the kitchen nervously until it was time to leave for Eddie’s appointment, and they soon found themselves in the waiting room of a tastefully decorated psychiatry office.

At first, Eddie picked up a magazine off the table and flipped through it aimlessly, but he soon tossed it back down with a sigh, fidgeting and wringing his hands as they waited. 

Richie laid a hand on top of Eddie’s, stilling his movements before slotting his fingers with Eddie’s, holding his hand tightly.

“I’m here,” Richie assured him gently, and Eddie smiled weakly down at their clasped hands.

Eventually they were called into the office, and they went in with their hands still glued together, Eddie feeling grounded by Richie’s touch.

Eddie had been to many different therapists and psychiatrists throughout the years to help him deal with his PTSD and trauma, but he had immediately latched onto Dr. Kirsch. She was in private practice and did not come cheap, but Richie would happily have paid ten times the amount she charged if it meant Eddie was getting the help he needed.

Dr. Kirsch was an older woman, slightly heavy-set with greyish hair and a pair of black-rimmed glasses. She was seated on a couch and dressed comfortably, yet professionally, and had a friendly smile on her face when Richie and Eddie entered the room. She had a palpable presence about her that was both calming and warm, and Richie could immediately see why Eddie liked her so much.

“Hi Eddie,” she greeted him warmly with a smile.

“Hi,” Eddie responded, already seeming calmer. He indicated to Richie. “This is my husband, Richie. Is it alright if he stays?”

Dr. Kirsch immediately nodded.

“Of course, if that’s something that would be helpful to you. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Richie.”

They sat down on the couch across from Dr. Kirsch, immediately settling in against each other, their thighs pressed together. Richie wrapped an arm around Eddie and Eddie rested a hand on Richie’s knee.

“So what brings you in today?” Dr. Kirsch asked once they were settled. “I know we had an appointment scheduled for next week, but you said you felt this couldn’t wait.”

Eddie nodded and swallowed hard, looking down at the carpeted floor, and Richie placed a hand on top of his where it was still resting on Richie’s knee, encouraging him to continue.

“I…” Eddie began after a moment, still averting his gaze. “I had a nightmare. Last night. A really bad one. I woke up screaming again, and at first I felt like I didn’t even know where I was. Like, even after I woke up, I felt like I was still in it. I was still trapped.”

Eddie swallowed hard, and Dr. Kirsch just observed him patiently, notepad balanced in her lap as she waited. Richie stroked slowly up and down his back.

“Richie… he, uh, he tried to comfort me. But I started having a panic attack, and I ended up having to take a pill just to calm down enough to go back to sleep.”

He finally raised his eyes, and Dr. Kirsch quickly jotted something down before looking up to meet his gaze.

“You’ve had quite a few bad nightmares lately, haven’t you?”

Eddie nodded.

“And these nightmares are something you’ve been struggling with for quite some time now, correct?”

Eddie nodded again, and Richie could see his eyes starting to fill up with tears. He squeezed Eddie’s hand comfortingly, and Eddie leaned into his side.

“For a while,” Eddie continued, his voice starting to sound strained. “For a while, it seemed like it was getting better. Especially right after we got married. For a while, it just seemed like everything was… right. Like I was exactly where I was supposed to be, and nobody could touch me. But now it’s bad again. It’s gotten so much worse since… since…”

“Since your mother got sick,” Dr. Kirsch filled in for him.

Eddie nodded, sniffing in an attempt to prevent the tears from escaping his eyes. He was almost afraid to open his mouth again, for fear that he’d just start sobbing, but he felt Richie rub up and down his arm encouragingly.

“And… and then when she died… I actually thought things would get better after that. Like it was all over, you know? But… it’s only gotten worse. It just… it just keeps getting worse.”

Eddie was now crying in earnest, and Dr. Kirsch offered him the box of tissues from the small table to her side. Eddie took it gratefully and held it up to his face, not even whipping his eyes so much as just using it to hide behind in shame.

Dr. Kirsch waited for his tears and sniffles to subside before responding.

“There’s always a lot of complicated emotions when a parent dies,” she reassured him. “Sometimes even more so when you’re estranged, which is something that people often don’t realize. I’ve had many clients who have had a parent die who they hadn’t even talked to in years, sometimes in decades, and then they don’t understand why they’re still so upset because there was really no relationship present. I want to be clear about that: what you’re experiencing is very normal. It’s normal for someone in your situation to be in a bit of a bad place momentarily. It’s normal to be struggling with something like this, and it’s alright to need to rely on your partner for emotional support right now.”

At that, Eddie felt Richie squeeze him tightly in agreement, and he could sense Richie looking at him, but for some reason he felt unable to turn and meet his gaze.

“I just…” Eddie swallowed back another wave of tears. “I just feel like it’s too much. Like it isn’t right for me to ask him to deal with all this. Like…”

Eddie swallowed again, then finally turned to look into Richie’s concerned eyes.

“Like… one day you’re just gonna decide enough is enough, and you don’t want to deal with this anymore. And I won’t even blame you for it.”

Richie’s eyes went wide, and his mouth fell open slightly in genuine shock, and something akin to horror at finding out that Eddie was feeling this way.

“And is that how you feel?” Dr. Kirsch asked Richie

Richie’s head snapped towards her, almost having forgotten she was there, and he opened and closed his mouth a few times before turning back to Eddie.

“No,” Richie answered seriously, although a part of him almost felt inclined to laugh at the absurdity of the question. “No, of course not.”

Richie took both of Eddie’s hands in his, looking directly down into his big, brown eyes.

“Eddie, how many times have you helped me with my anxiety, and my horrible stress management? How many times have I called you from backstage before a show, and you talked me down so that I could go out there and do my job? How many times have I woken you up in the middle of the night by pacing in the kitchen because I had writer’s block and couldn’t sleep?”

Eddie shook his head, his brow furrowed and his mouth pressed into a thin line.

“That’s… that’s different.”

“No, it isn’t, Eddie,” Richie insisted. “You’re there for me, again and again. And I’m going to be there for you. I always will be.”

Eddie nodded slightly, though he still looked doubtful, which did not go unnoticed by Dr. Kirsch.

“Eddie,” she pulled his attention back to her. “Imagine the roles were reversed. Imagine it was Richie having these exact problems that you’re having and needing your support. Would you feel like it wasn’t right for him to ask you for help?”

“No, of course not!” Eddie answered immediately, as if the question was complete nonsense.

After a moment of silence, Eddie squeezed his eyes shut and sighed heavily.

“Richie is willing to be there for you,” Dr. Kirsch continued. “And you do not need to feel guilty for relying on him while you’re going through a difficult time.”

Richie nodded in agreement, wrapping his arm back around Eddie and pulling him into his side.

“Now about your mother,” she segued easily. “I understand you distanced yourself from her after you left home, which was what was healthy for you and you had every right to do so. But maybe a part of you feels like you never got closure in that relationship.”

“Maybe,” Richie jumped in. “Sorry to interrupt, but maybe a part of you kind of wishes you had been able to confront her?”

He looked tentatively between Eddie and Dr. Kirsch before continuing.

“Maybe somewhere deep down… it just doesn’t feel complete, you know? She put you through so much pain and suffering for all those years, and you never really got to… you know, tell her off?”

He spoke with less and less certainty as he went on, but when he finished, Dr. Kirsch nodded in agreement.

“Closure is important,” she reaffirmed. “Particularly when it comes to childhood trauma. And I think the best course of action would be for us to try to figure out a way for you to get that closure. There are a lot of possibilities: some people find that writing a letter is very effective, because it allows them to organize and direct their feelings. Some people find it more effective to do it verbally, meaning they pretend they’re actually talking to the person, which may sound silly, but it’s something I’d like you to think about. It’s also possible for things to simply get better with time, but I’d like you to start considering some of those options and think about if it would be worth it for you to try one of those activities.”

She paused for a moment, giving Eddie and Richie a moment to process and providing them the opportunity to respond or ask questions, but Eddie just looked down at his feet while Richie continued to look at him and stroke a hand gently up and down his arm.

“But I also want to be clear,” Dr. Kirsch continued. “Even after getting closure, sometimes these emotions don’t just instantly go away. Sometimes it takes a while, and sometimes they’ll creep up again, months or even years later, and there’s nothing shameful about that. It’s just a natural response to loss, even if it’s the loss of a person that you had a very strained and complex relationship with.” 

Eddie was still looking down at the floor, but he slowly began to nod in acknowledgement. Dr. Kirsch jotted down a few notes on her pad before continuing.

“For now, I understand that you don’t like taking the Trazadone because of the side effects, so maybe we should try some supplements like Melatonin instead. Additionally, some aromatherapy or meditation before bedtime could be helpful. Even just having a nighttime routine, like making a cup of tea and reading a book before bed, can help you to fall asleep and stay asleep. I’d like you to try that for at least a couple of nights, and if you’re still having to rely on the Trazadone, then we’ll look into getting you a prescription for a different sleeping aid.”

Eddie nodded again, but stayed silent. Richie was starting to wonder if he should ask if they could just cut the session short so he could take Eddie home. He seemed thoroughly exhausted in every possible sense: physically, emotionally, and psychologically. 

“So, are you still working on that insurance project? The one you’re leading the team for at work?”

Eddie immediately perked up, sitting up straighter with his shoulders back, a small smile on his face as he began talking about his project. Dr. Kirsch chimed in occasionally with questions and comments, but Richie stayed silent, just watching his husband talk enthusiastically about his work and appreciating how genuinely happy he seemed.

Eventually Dr. Kirsch had to cut him off because the session was coming to an end, so they made another appointment for two weeks later and said goodbye, Dr. Kirsch again telling Richie how nice it was to meet him.

They were silent in the car ride back home, Richie driving and Eddie in the passenger seat looking out the window. The mood was not nearly as melancholy as it was on the ride to the appointment, but there was still a sobriety in the air that prevented them from falling into their usual banter.

“I can see why you like her so much,” Richie finally broke the silence.

Eddie just hummed thoughtfully in response.

“What are you thinking, babe?”

Eddie sighed heavily, shifting back in his seat.

“I think… I wanna do it,” he said definitively.

“Hm?”

“I wanna confront her. My mom.”

Richie glanced over at him, eyebrows raised at his sudden decidedness.

“You wanna do it? Like the doctor said?”

He could see Eddie nod out of the corner of his eye.

“Okay,” Richie answered in a tone that he hoped conveyed support. “How… like, how do you wanna do it? With a letter, or…”

“No,” Eddie replied flatly. “I want to really confront her. I know where she’s buried. I’m the one who fucking paid for it, I have the plot number.”

Richie had to force himself to keep his eyes on the road.

“You… you want to go back? To Derry?”

Eddie sat up straight, his arms crossed in front of his chest, still looking forward at the road ahead, his brow furrowed.

“I want to go back to Derry.”


	2. Part 2

The last time Richie and Eddie had been in Derry was when they got engaged. It had been mid-summer, bright and warm, and they’d spent their days playing, exploring, and reminiscing with their five closest friends, and went home at night to the warmth of Richie’s house, the joyful aura of Richie’s mom, and the loving embrace of each other as they cuddled up and slept together in Richie’s childhood room, the window cracked open to let in the pleasant smelling breeze of the summer nights.

It was now just far enough into autumn that all the deciduous trees had lost their leaves and become barren skeletons reaching bony fingers up to the endless grey sky that was threatening either rain or snow or both. Occasionally a breeze would swirl the scattering of dead leaves on the ground, blowing them onto the street and mixing with the salt that had been scattered on the roads in preparation for foul weather. The sun now dipped out in the early evening, leaving the streets of downtown mainly empty as people hurried back to the warmth and safety of their homes.

Everything about it reminded Eddie of why he’d been so eager to leave when he was younger; this was the Derry he’d wanted to escape: cold, quiet, and hopeless.

They stayed at the Derry townhouse this time, even though Richie’s mother made it abundantly clear that she would love to have them stay with her again. Eddie declined, as lovingly as he could, and thankfully her feelings seemed unscathed. It wasn’t that Eddie didn’t like staying there, quite the opposite actually: he wanted Richie’s mother’s house to always be a place of joy, comfort, and safety. He didn’t want to soil its place in his heart by using it to complete such an awful errand.

They arrived in Derry late in the afternoon on Saturday, and they had a flight back to Chicago booked for Sunday evening. Richie had questioned the quick turnaround, but Eddie assured him that he wanted to make this as brief as possible.

They checked into their room and ordered takeout, then after dinner they showered and turned in early, although they didn’t get much sleep. Eddie woke up with another nightmare during the night, and after that neither of them could drift off again, so they just stayed wrapped up tightly in each other’s arms until the sun came up.

It was starting to snow as they finished up breakfast, light flurries swirling down around them, but not quite sticking to the ground yet. It created an almost dream-like ambiance as they drove through the quiet streets and made their way to the Derry cemetery on the outskirts of town.

There was practically no one there, only a few other cars in the parking lot as they pulled in and parked. Eddie was hit sharply by the brisk air when he stepped out of the car, burning his lungs when he took a deep, sobering breath. He zipped his thick coat all the way up to his chin, but it didn’t help much, the cold was already under his skin.

He knew the plot number by heart; even though he had been strongly indifferent to his mother’s burial arrangements, he had seen it in enough times that it was burned into his mind. He made his way over to it purposefully, holding Richie’s warm hand tightly in his own as he walked. He could see Richie gazing over at him out of the corner of his eye, checking in, probably wondering if he was going to have some sort of breakdown any minute, but Eddie felt oddly calm as they approached a fairly new-looking gravestone that was coated in a light frost.

For a moment, they just stood there in front of it, Richie looking at Eddie, Eddie looking at the gravestone, both of them evaluating. Eddie’s face was blank as he looked down at the writing carved into the grey marble; seeing his mother’s name there, the name he had shed when he’d married Richie earlier that year, followed by the dates of her birth and death… it was something so somber, and also strangely menacing, and he almost felt inclined to laugh at that. His mother was intimidating him, even from her grave.

After a long moment, Eddie spoke, surprising both himself and Richie at how loud and steady his voice was.

“Hi, mom.”

Of course there was no response, but he still paused a minute before continuing.

“It’s me, Eddie. Your son. We haven’t spoken in… in a long time.”

He huffed out a humorless laugh, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all. Dr. Kirsch had warned him that it might feel a bit silly, but at the same time he was already feeling a catharsis from just those first few sentences.

“I guess I should catch you up,” Eddie continued, the corner of his mouth slightly upturned. “A lot has happened since we last talked. I graduated college, I moved to Chicago, I started a career. I got married.”

He paused again after the last one, squeezing Richie’s hand tightly and feeling him squeeze back, still standing next to him as a pillar of support and encouragement.

“A lot of milestones. A lot of big life events. A lot of things that a parent should be there for. A lot of things that… that… that you told me I couldn’t do without you.”

Eddie swallowed hard. The numbness he’d been feeling since arriving in Derry was finally melting away, and he could feel a tightness in his chest as a wave of emotion welled up inside of him. When he spoke again, his voice was still confident, but it cracked a bit, showing the vulnerability behind the facade.

“You told me I couldn’t do anything without you, mom. You… you told me I’d die without you to take care of me. You said that to me. When I left for college, you said that. You said I’d come crawling back to you, if I didn’t end up dead in an alley somewhere first.”

He sniffed as his vision began to blur with tears and he fought to not let them fall. He still didn’t want to cry in front of his mother. Even in death, he didn’t want to give her that satisfaction. He’d started to shiver from the cold, and Richie let go of his hand to wrap an arm around him, pulling him in close to his warm body.

Eddie closed his eyes and took a deep breath, tilting his head back slightly and letting a few snowflakes fall and melt on his face.

“You never thought I could do anything. You didn’t think I could survive without you.”

A single tear escaped and rolled down his cheek. Eddie brushed it away angrily, upset with himself for allowing that vulnerability to show through.

“Well you know what?” he practically growled, a newfound fire burning in him and coming through his voice. “I didn’t just survive, mom. No, I did so much more than just survive without you. I’m living in one of the greatest cities in the world. I’m living in a house that I bought, using money from a job that I love, and a job that I’m fucking good at. I’m married. I’m fucking married, mom, to a man that I love. A man who loves me and appreciates me and is always there for me when I need him. He cares for me, mom, really cares for me, in the way you only pretended to. I know he loves me.”

Eddie slid his hand down to find Richie’s again, grasping it tightly.

“You know how I know that? Because he's the fucking opposite of you. He doesn’t try to control me or manipulate me, he doesn’t lie to me or hurt me, he just loves me.”

Eddie took a brazen step forward, and to Richie’s surprise, he leaned his head forward and spit directly onto the headstone. It landed right on the ‘a’ at the end of Sonia.

“Fuck you, mom,” Eddie snarled out, no longer crying, no longer hurt or scared, just fed up. Finished. Done with all of it.

He took Richie’s hand again and began to walk away, Richie just trailing along beside him obediently, still wondering if there was going to be a breakdown of some sort, but Eddie only raised a hand up and extended his middle finger, flipping off the grave over his shoulder as they made there way through the sea of graves, fresh snow crunching underfoot.

They got back to the car and immediately cranked up the heater, sitting for a moment to warm up and watching the snow fall against the windshield.

“All ready to go?” Richie finally asked, and it occurred to Eddie that this may have been the longest time Richie had ever been continually silent while conscious, and the thought made him smile.

“Ready to go.”

They drove back to the townhouse to gather their belongings, then took off for the airport where Eddie would board a flight to Chicago O’Hare and go back to the home he shared with his husband.

He wasn’t sure if he was going to have a nightmare tonight, but he knew that if he did, he would be okay. He would be okay, because he’d have Richie there to hold him and love him, and he always would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was pretty short, but I hope y'all liked it.  
> And don't worry, I'm back to writing porn again! The next installment is pretty much pure smut, and it should be up sometime next week.

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 should be up in a couple days, it's all done, I'm just waiting on my proofreader to look it over.
> 
> And sorry this wasn't the usual smutty and fluffy tour de force, but the next installment that I'm working on right now is pretty much pure porn, and that should be done by the end of next week!


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